Fred Weasley's Funeral
by Verquinox
Summary: Fred Weasley was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. And now it's time for George to say goodbye.


"Thank you all, for being here today. We gather here to mourn the loss of a great and selfless wizard, never hesitant to put himself in harm's way to save a friend. Fred Weasley was the bright spark in a sea of darkness, the humor when there was nothing to laugh about. He..." George stopped listening to the wizard conducting the funeral. He could not bear it, could not bear to hear things that Fred had done, things that Fred would never be able to do. Sobs punctuated the sombre silence. George looked around. There were mum and dad. Their grief seemed to transcend tears, or maybe they had simply run out of tears, their eyes dry, their hearts empty. Bill and Fleur were both crying, albeit silently. Fleur, thanks to her Veela blood, looked radiant as ever despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. Bill caught George's eye, but George looked away. He did not want to see the consolation or the pity in Bill's eyes. Ron and Hermione, both sobbing, holding each like they would never let go. They had both been there when Fred had... When it had happened. George quickly turned his thoughts in another direction. He could not bear to think of it, for he knew that if he did, the self restraint he had been displaying for the past few weeks would crack, and all the tears he had hidden would flow. Harry and Ginny. Ginny wasn't crying, but he could see the pain that she was hiding deep inside. Out of all of them, she was perhaps the only one who would understand what he felt. And Harry? How did Harry feel? Harry, who would have given anything to undo this tragedy. To his surprise, George felt a surge of anger as he looked at Harry, whose face was shining with tears. It was Harry's fault, all Harry's fault, if he had given himself up George wouldn't be here, about to watch his brother being lowered into the earth... 'Stop being a git, George,' he told himself. Don't you think Harry feels bad enough already?' Charlie. This was the only time he had ever seen Charlie cry. Not even when he had to leave for Romania had he cried. But now, now the dam had burst. Percy. He wasn't crying, but as he met George's eyes he gave a forlorn little smile. Percy, who had reunited with his family just hours before. Percy, who had refused leave Fred, even after he was dead... And now George broke. Tears flowed down his face, and George made no attempt to wipe them off. It was time to face the truth, and the truth was that Fred was dead. Fred was dead and gone, and he wasn't coming back. It was time to stop pretending. Time to stop wishing with all his heart that it was all a joke, that Fred would jump out from behind a curtain with a laugh and a stupid joke. Time to stop hoping that it was all a dream, that he would wake up one day and Fred would still be alive. What would Fred have said to him if he had seen him like this? "pull yourself together George, you're acting like a flobberworm. We've got a joke shop to run, remember?" The joke shop. Fred's pride and joy. He had been so happy when they had opened it, when they had sold their first Skiving Snackbox. George had seriously considered selling it. He couldn't imagine it without Fred. Every time he went inside, he would see something, hear something, smell something that would remind him of his brother. Ron had talked him out of that idea soon enough. "Fred would've killed you, mate. He would've continued with it if you had... You know... Snuffed it. He would have kept alive for you." Ron had said. The wizard had stopped talking. Everyone was standing up, dabbing their eyes with scraps of lace. George felt a shiver run down his spine. This was it. This was the end. The wizard raised his wand and all the chairs vanished. A line started forming in front of Fred's coffin. George got in line last. Mrs Weasley broke down completely, sobbing over Fred's cold body. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and had to be wrestled, screaming, from the coffin by Bill and Ron. "Fred! Fred! Fred, no! Don't leave me, don't leave me!" she screamed. Slowly, the line shrank. As George got closer and closer to the coffin, his stomach started squirming. Five more people... Four more... Three... Two... He was next... Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for seeing his brother's body stretched out, lifeless and cold, inside his coffin. As George stared into his twin's face, he remembered. Remembered all the things they had done. Remembered the times they had laughed, remembered the times they had gotten themselves out of tight spots together. Yet, for some reason, George felt strangely serene. It was as though Fred's spirit was standing next to him, calming him. George stood there for a long time. He knew he would never be ready for this, never be ready to say goodbye. Finally, he stepped back. "Goodbye Fred," he whispered. He took his place in between Percy and Ron, and watched as the wizard raised his wand. The table Fred's coffin had rested on disappeared, leaving in its place a large mound. Slowly, Fred's coffin sunk into the mound. George watched as Fred Weasley, his brother, confidante, partner in crime and the best friend he would ever have was buried. And he knew that a part of himself had been buried too. The wizard raised his wand and earth covered the mound. A light breeze blew. It was cool and refreshing, dancing happily through the trees and the crowd of mourners who had gathered to pay their last respects. George listened to the wind, and he could have sworn he had heard Fred's distinctive laughter. He looked up at the sky, cloudless and blue, and he knew that Fred was, once and for all, at peace. 


End file.
